


Setting the Stage

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: 31 Days of Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6193144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duo wakes up in a strange bed and finds himself facing an interesting proposition.</p><p>Day 8 of 31 Days of Smut</p><p> </p><p>(Written for myself)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Setting the Stage

A/N: So this prompt… is for me. Because I’ve never tried a 6x2 and because Maeve and I have been spending way too much time talking about Dangerous Liaisons and this isn’t an exact AU replication - in fact I’m changing it quite a bit, but I think it’s for the better (for this, not suggesting there is anything wrong with DL as is).

A/N 2: I live for reviews. Even if it’s just “loved it” - every review makes my day and inspires me to write more.-

A/N 3: A special and enormous thanks to Maevemauvaise who, in addition to exchanging all caps frantic typing with me is taking on the dubious honor of beta reading for me. THANK you so much.

A/N 4:I finally fucking figured out how to copy/paste and preserve my italics and layout. My deepest apologies for all of the garbage posts I've made before this.

 

Warnings: language, smut, angst, AU

Pairings: 6x2?

 

_ March 8: Setting the Stage _

 

Duo woke slowly, lethargy weighing down his eyes and his limbs. 

Even before he opened his eyes he realized he was most definitely  _ not _ in his own bed. While that wasn’t particularly noteworthy, Duo  _ was _ bothered by the fact that he had no idea where he was - or how he had gotten there.

The bed itself was sinfully comfortable, the mattress so plump under him that it fluffed up around his body and the sheets felt like the softest and finest of cottons. Most  _ definitely _ not his own bed - the less said about his personal linens and mattress, the better. There was a  _ reason _ Duo liked to spend his evenings in the beds of others, and it only occasionally had to do with activities prior to sleeping.

As he opened his eyes and looked around him, taking in the opulent room bathed in pale gray light, Duo was still unable to identify where he was.

Somewhere that someone with excellent taste and money to burn had decorated. Nearly every piece of furniture seemed to be gilded and marble topped, including the molding on the walls.

He sat up and realized, quite suddenly, that the space beside him in the bed was cold and untouched.

He’d slept alone? In this massive bed? What the hell had happened last night?

Duo remembered drinking, remembered attending the Countess de Foix’s birthday party, remembered flirting with her daughter Hilde, remembered doing his damnedest to avoid the wandering hands of Old Baron de Vaille, remembered making a fool of himself in front of Count Milardo. But that… that was it. He had no idea who he had gone home with or  _ why _ he was here. 

There was a bell on the nightstand and he experimentally rang it.

The mystery of where the hell he was was further complicated when Howard, Duo’s personal valet, entered the room.

Duo arched an eyebrow at him.

“Where the hell am I?” Duo asked.

“Good morning to you, sir,” Howard responded. “I trust you slept well?”

Duo snorted.

“Like a lamb suckling at a mother’s teat but  _ where _ are we, Howard?”

Howard looked amused, which wasn’t unusual - the man seemed to spend his entire life laughing about one private joke or another.

“Your father gave me explicit instructions to take care of you after he died. I fear your habit of drinking too much is compromising my ability to do that.”

Duo rolled his eyes. His  _ father, _ the perpetually drunk Bishop of Toulouse, had foisted Duo off onto Howard when his mother, the Bishop’s mistress, died when Duo was only three and had given explicit instructions to  _ keep him away _ . Not to take care of him.

“Yeah, sure. The drinking is bad, blah, blah,” Duo waved a hand. “But would you  _ please _ just tell me where the hell we are?”

“And here I thought there wasn’t a bedroom in Paris you hadn’t been in before,” Howard muttered.

_ Someone _ was clearly in a good mood today. Duo couldn’t remember the last time Howard had given him such snark.

Duo waited, refusing to give the old man even more satisfaction. When Howard realized Duo would remain silent, he sighed.

“Count Milardo’s third best guest room, my lord.”

Duo lifted his eyebrows.

How the hell had  _ that _ happened?

Count Milardo, the most handsome man at court, a practiced flirt and a kept man who flitted from lover to lover on  _ his _ own whim, was something of a role model for Duo. Landless, bearer of an empty title, Duo had come to Paris to try to make a name for himself and had quickly learned that the easiest way to keep food in his belly was to let someone else buy it for him. It hadn’t been ideal - certainly had  _ not _ been his dream - but Duo had realized that as distant as dreams and reality were from one another, reality was a hell of a lot more comforting than nightmares. So he had trained himself to flirt, to compliment, to be nothing more than a pretty fop who became a desired meal companion and even more desirable bedmate. But Duo was nothing -  _ nothing _ \- compared to Count Milardo. The man had earned himself a title by seducing God only knew how many members of court and he was, as Duo’s surroundings indicated, very, very rich.

But none of that explained  _ how _ or  _ why _ Duo was sitting in his third best guest room - and what the hell was that about? Duo didn’t merit second or best? He snorted at himself. Of course not. He barely merited above the stables.

“And just why are  _ you _ here?” Duo asked Howard when it was clear the valet had no intention of going into more detail.

“I was sent for, my lord. I was told to bring you a change of clothes and be ready for when you awoke.”

That was both thoughtful and creepy. 

Duo scowled.

“And just where  _ is _ Count Milardo anyway?”

“You mean he didn’t spend the night with you?” Howard asked, eyes twinkling.

“You know damn well I wouldn’t have been interrogating you if he had.” Duo rubbed at his head. He’d only been awake for ten minutes and the day already felt too long. “Just - bring me my clothes and let’s get out of here.”

“I do believe the count wanted to see you before you left this morning,” Howard said. 

Duo snorted. Of course. No chance to slip away and forget this whole thing - whatever  _ this _ was - had ever even happened.

“Fine. Just get my clothes - and find out when I can see his majesty and then we can get the hell out of here.”

“I’m in no rush,” Howard shrugged. “The maids  _ here _ know what respect is.”

Duo tuned out Howard as the man started in on a diatribe about the failings of the handful of staff Duo managed to keep on at his townhouse. The old man left the room and then came back, a valise in hand,  _ still _ going on about the servants.

Duo, meanwhile, was deep in thought, trying to figure out just  _ what _ had happened to land him here.

As Howard dressed him, Duo was still no closer to figuring it out.

He couldn’t help but notice, standing in front of the full length gold framed mirror, that the linen undershirt and drawers was a bit dingy - more gray than white. When Howard tossed his hose at him, Duo made a face and pulled them on. Dingy as well. At least his waistcoat, breeches and coat were immaculate - pale blue satin brocade with fine silver trim and rows and rows of silver buttons. It was Duo’s favorite suit, and if Howard wasn’t being so snarky, Duo would have thanked him for bringing it. As it  _ was _ …

Duo adjusted his hair, smoothing back his bangs, the curls from yesterday long since fallen flat, and decided he was presentable, if only  _ just _ .

“Ahem.”

Duo turned to see Howard waving a fine lace cravat at him.

Duo sighed. He hated the damn things. Of all of the parts to the ridiculous ensemble he was forced to parade around in, the cravat was his least favorite. He hated the sensation of being choked, hated feeling restricted and constrained and the damn strip of fabric was a reminder that he was very, very far from freedom.

“Satisfied?” Duo asked Howard.

The old man shrugged.

“We do the best with what we’ve got, my lord.”

True enough. And they had managed for this long - why the hell shouldn’t Duo be satisfied? Maybe the sheets he had just slept on were purer and crisper than his undergarments had  _ ever _ been - but Duo cut a fine figure and besides - it was less about how he dressed and more about how easily he enticed people to  _ undress _ him.

“Any chance you know where I can find him?”

“His valet was preparing his bath before I came in.”

Duo rolled his eyes. Great. Just lovely. He could imagine just how long a narcissist like Milardo would take to  _ bathe _ and then dress for the day. Who the hell took morning baths anyway?

Duo shook his head. There was no way he was going to just sit around for two hours or however long it took.

“Point me to his room?”

Howard, a thief by trade before the good Bishop had made him see the error of his ways, would have no doubt cased the house while waiting for Duo to wake up.

“Take a left when you leave the sitting room, go to the end of the hall and it’s the second door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

Duo stepped into the pumps that Howard set out, strapped on his belt and far too functional rapier, and set out.

Duo walked into the count’s room, unannounced, and found him naked and reclining in a large copper tub. And he wasn’t alone.

There was a maid, half dressed and soaking wet, sitting on his lap in the tub, running a sponge over his chest while Milardo lay back and seemed to be very lazily fucking her.

Duo had to arch an eyebrow when they noticed his entrance and the maid scrambled out of the tub, wet skirts clinging to her legs, her chemise plastered to her skin and made transparent by the water. Milardo, on the other hand, continued to recline and returned Duo’s look with an arched brow of his own.

Duo forced himself to look away from the count’s rather large cock as it protruded from the water.

“You wanted to see me?” Duo asked without introduction or preamble.

Milardo’s lips curved upwards. He tilted his head to the side and, without even looking at her, dismissed the maid with a wave of his hand.

“Leave the sponge,” he said and she had to scamper back and hold it out awkwardly. 

Milardo made no move to reach for it, instead he gave Duo a pointed look.

Duo snorted and folded his arms over his chest.

After nearly two minutes of silence between the three, the maid standing there shivering and red faced, Duo and Milardo glaring at each other, Duo finally took pity of the maid and snatched the sponge out of her hand.

He had no intention - less than no intention - of using it on the man in front of him, but it seemed cruel to force the poor girl to just  _ stand _ there like that.

She left, closing the bedroom door behind her, the sound ominously loud in the silent room.

Milardo draped his hands on the sides of the tub and rested his head back against the towel draped under his neck.

“Well?” he prompted.

Duo tossed the sponge and watched it land with a wet, heavy thud against Milardo’s flat stomach.

The man barely reacted except to shrug one shoulder and close his eyes.

Duo let his jaw drop. Seriously?

“You wanted to see me?” Duo said again.

“Mm,” Milardo hummed.

He should leave. He should just turn on his heel and walk out of here and put this whole surreal thing out of his mind.

But if he did that, he would never know why Milardo had taken him home, never k

now why he wanted him  _ now _ and - and damn it all to hell.

Duo angrily shrugged out of his coat and unlaced his sleeves. He pushed them up his forearms and then crossed the room and knelt beside the tub.

Throughout it all, Milardo’s damn eyes remained closed.

Duo glared at him and picked up the sponge. None too gently, he rubbed it across Milardo’s chest.

The man purred. Actually laid back and  _ purred _ at Duo’s rough treatment.

He gritted his teeth and applied even more pressure, hoping he could leave bruises.

“When I gave the Prince de Dombes a sponge bath for the first time, I was sixteen and a virgin,” Milardo said conversationally, his voice a rich, controlled tenor.

Duo wondered if this was going anywhere, or if this was just another aspect of Milardo’s legendary narcissism.

“And when I was finished, I had learned no fewer than seven ways to pleasure a man and was gifted with a lovely diamond.”

Duo couldn’t help but snort derisively.

“I’m already not a virgin and unless you’ve got a diamond on hand I don’t think this is going to go that route.”

“Something tells me it wouldn’t take a diamond to get you into this tub with me,” Milardo murmured and plucked at Duo’s sleeve, his eyes still closed.

Duo felt his lips curl into a snarl. 

“So that’s why I’m here?” Duo asked. “Because you think I’m a cheap lay?”

Milardo finally opened his eyes and his blue gaze was piercing.

“I  _ know _ you are a cheap lay, but I don’t pay for sex .”

“Right. You get paid  _ for _ it.”

“Better than you, I should point out, and that’s not really what my partners pay for.”

“No?”

“No - as you well know. If someone wants a whore,” Milardo’s eyes swept over Duo’s body in a pointed glance, “then they buy a whore. If someone wants a companion for a meal, the opera, a country excursion, then they search for a refined ornament.”

“And that’s you?”

Milardo arched one elegant eyebrow.

Yeah, it was. No need for Duo to even say it out loud for them to both know that.

Duo moved to Milardo’s shoulders and he found that he had, entirely without conscious thought, switched over to a more gentle caress with the sponge. Damn it all to hell - here he was trying to impress the bastard.

Milardo smirked as he saw Duo realize it.

“The best manipulations are those not even suspected,” he murmured and closed his eyes again.

It was a damn good point - and one well made.

Duo fought against his childish urge to drop the sponge and go. However irritating, however  _ humiliating _ this little tete a tete was proving very enlightening. But it still hadn’t answered any of Duo’s questions.

“How did I even get here?”

“The Marquis de Bourne tried to take you home last night and since I can recall all too vividly  _ my _ evening spent with him some years ago I thought I would save you from that.”

Duo shuddered. Bourne had been after him for months, dropping hints and invitations and pretty, meaningless baubles that Duo was barely able to pawn off for a loaf of bread let alone anything of substance. The man was a creep - a sadist, judging by what Duo had heard, and not the fun kind either.

“I appreciate that,” Duo said and then he realized. “I owe you.”

Milardo smirked and let out a contented sigh. “You do, don’t you?” 

Duo was about to ask what Milardo wanted from him, but the man nudged Duo’s hand away from his shoulders and down to his now flaccid cock.

“I thought you don’t pay for sex.”

“I have no intention of paying you,” Milardo chuckled.

Duo frowned. “So this will make us even?”

“Hardly. I was already having a delightful morning with a  _ very _ experienced girl when you interrupted. No, this is mere curiosity.”

Duo arched an eyebrow.

“I’ve heard that you have a special touch.”

Duo couldn’t help but smirk.

“Jealous?” He could only assume that one of Milardo’s lovers had also been one of Duo’s.

Milardo’s eyes turned chilly.

Jealous indeed. Duo wondered at that, wondered just what that meant. 

Count Milardo, beautiful and vain and full of pride… and nearly thirty. While Duo was young, fresh, witty and clearly a threat to Milardo’s continued security as  _ the _ courtesan to be had in Paris. The realization filled him with a heady sense of unexpected power.

Duo considered his options, wondered just how he could play this out to his advantage. He brushed aside his initial desire to torment Milardo with the knowledge that he, nobody from nothing Duo, was competition. No, that would be a waste.

Instead, Duo abandoned the sponge in the tub and trailed his wet fingers over Milardo’s chest, meandering through the water and swirling it through the faint, downy hair on his chest.

“Special, huh?” Duo asked. He let his smirk take on a cruel edge - not a look he normally paraded around. 

Milardo’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the challenge.

“Special because of my… sinful, sensuous fingers?” Duo asked as he danced those fingers across Milardo’s nipples. “Or,” he leaned in close and let his breath warm Milardo’s ear, “is it my voice? The voice of an angel or the voice of a devil, hm? I’ve been called both.” Duo chuckled and he watched Milardo shiver. “The Baroness de Ghent? All it takes is me whispering into her ear for her to come. But you? I’m thinking you might require a bit more persuasion, hmm?” Duo moved his fingers lower and he saw Milardo lick his lips in anticipation.

Duo couldn’t help but smirk again. Oh no, he wasn’t about to make this  _ that _ easy.

He dragged his fingers through the water, ghosting over the hardening cock just under the surface, and then trailed them over Milardo’s thighs.

“I’ve also heard you called a tease,” Milardo grunted.

“Mm. Good to know you’ve got the measure of me, then,” Duo said. He ran his thumb over the inside of Milardo’s thigh in large, connected circles, massaging the flesh in a way that could have nothing to do with sex. Except for the fact that he was doing it to a naked man in a bathtub who was slowly, almost imperceptibly, straining to move closer to his touch.

“You  _ like _ sex,” Duo realized and made the mistake of saying it outloud.

“You  _ don’t _ ?” Milardo sounded equally shocked.

Duo chuckled and sat back on his heels. “No, not really.”

“Then you’re a better actor than I’ve given you credit for,” Milardo mused. “My - a  _ friend _ of mine goes on and on every time he sees you, reminiscing about your face in ecstasy.”

Duo shrugged. “I never said I didn’t get  _ off _ . I just… resent having to do it to make a living.”

“There are worse things you could be doing, and worse ways to be doing  _ this _ ,” Milardo pointed out.

Duo nodded in agreement. “Don’t I know it.” He returned his attention to Milardo’s thigh, digging his thumb in at a spot he had found to be sensitive on several of his lovers. Sure enough, Milardo arched under his touch. 

“I don’t know if I hate you more or less now that I know you don’t like it,” Milardo sighed. 

“Me either,” Duo agreed. He flexed his fingers and raked his nails over Milardo’s flesh and the man purred again.

Milardo was right - there were worse things, and worse ways, than this. Besides, there was the power - the ability to turn men and women, even ones as practiced as Milardo, into putty in his hands. Duo appreciated that, craved it even. In a life with little power and even less recognition, Duo desired that almost as much as he desired the ability to live comfortably. Maybe even, if he were honest with himself, more.

“How  _ does _ it feel,” he asked into the shell of Milardo’s ear, “to have my hand oh so very,  _ very _ close to your aching cock?”

Milardo drew in a breath but refused to speak. That made Duo chuckle. The man clearly enjoyed sex - clearly loved to be touched - but he wasn’t some randy teenager ready to sell his soul and all of his secrets to get off. Good. Duo liked a challenge.

“I bet you’ve fantasized about this, haven’t you, Count? I bet you lay awake at night thinking about  _ me _ , thinking about burying that cock in my sweet, plump young ass haven’t you? Oh, I’ve seen the way you look at me - even under that sneer your lust is obvious. Your  _ frustration _ .”

Milardo growled and his hips lifted, splashing water over the edge of the tub, as he tried to force Duo’s hand onto his cock.

Duo chuckled and moved further away, smoothing his palm over Milardo’s knee and down his calf. 

“What will you give me, I wonder, if I finally touch you? What will it take to let you spill into my hand or,” Duo flicked his tongue against Milardo’s earlobe, “my mouth? Want to fill me up with your seed? I’ve been told it’s the only real way to shut me up.”

Milardo moaned, low and needy and damn if it didn’t actually send a flicker of arousal through Duo’s body. Milardo turned his head and Duo could see his flushed cheeks and parted lips, his blue eyes normally so cold now  _ burning _ with need.

Holy hell. The man was beautiful. Duo had first been heard Milardo described as a fallen angel - a man with a face surely and lovingly crafted by God. He had scoffed at the description and then, the first time he had seen Milardo he had grudgingly admitted that the man was attractive. But this -  _ this _ was indeed the face of a fallen angel.

Duo found his own breath quickening at the sight and he reversed his hand’s path, bringing it back towards Milardo’s groin, wondering now just what  _ he _ looked like in the throes of ecstasy.

Milardo’s gaze stayed locked with Duo’s as he finally, teasingly, stroked his cock. The head was wide and blunt, the shaft long and curved - almost as elegantly as Milardo’s eyebrows - and Duo felt his heart skip a beat with Milardo moaned again, when his eyes fluttered for a moment before he concentrated on Duo again. Duo ran his thumb over the head and Milardo sighed and thrust up into his hand.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Duo whispered, completely in awe of the man spread out before him. Duo wanted,  _ needed _ , to see Milardo orgasm. 

He already looked wild - his blonde hair wet falling down his back, sweeping out of the tub in a golden fall that Duo ached to touch, his eyes unfocused, his lips pink and so delectable looking. Duo licked his own lips, the need to kiss Milardo so strong it took him by surprise. 

He tightened his hold on Milardo’s cock, forming a loose fist with his fingers and moving over the smooth, hard flesh in an effort to show his appreciation, to please this angel. Duo shifted his knees, spreading his own legs to relieve some of the pressure against his suddenly heavy balls and his own erect cock as it pressed against the front placket of his breeches.

Duo had never had such a visceral urge to taste a cock before, to have bitter cum spill down his throat. He had never wanted, so very badly, to see someone else climb to the edge and then shatter.

Milardo sighed again, thrust upwards again, and Duo had to do it. Had to kiss him.

He leaned in close and he felt his braid fall forward into the water, saw it land on Milardo’s belly and he didn’t care. 

Duo had just brushed against Milardo’s bottom lip, had just felt the impossibly soft flesh under him when Milardo laughed.

It was cold and cruel and felt like falling through the ice on a lake.

Duo moved back so fast he lost his balance, wound up sprawled on the floor looking up at Milardo as he threw his head back and laughed with abandon.

_ What the hell? _

Duo felt his face, felt his neck and chest and his entire damn  _ body _ flush in anger and embarrassment and Milardo wiped tears of mirth from his eyes.

“Oh, that was more fun than I thought it would be,” the blonde man said as he slowly stood up.

Water cascaded down his perfect body and Duo found himself watching, found himself unable to look away, as a thick trickle ran from Milardo’s torso down to his erect cock and then dropped down into the tub.

He swallowed hard and looked up to meet Milardo’s cruel eyes.

“I can’t say I’m impressed - I’ve heard you value honesty, after all - but I think your talents, as they are, will be adequate.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” It hit Duo, hit him hard, that Milardo had been acting - had been playing him for a damn fool the entire time. Milardo had even  _ said _ it -  _ the best manipulations are those not even suspected _ . Milardo had orchestrated the entire thing.

“I’m talking about a small matter of you  _ owing _ me for saving you from the vile Marquis.”

Duo grit his teeth. Damn this man. And then he wondered, had the Marquis even tried to get Duo to come home with him? What  _ had _ happened last night? 

“What do you want?” he demanded, furious with himself and the other man.

Milardo shrugged into a banyan robe, uncaring of the water that he left in his wake as he crossed the room and poured himself a cup of tea. Duo watched the man stir in sugar, watched him take a thoughtful sip, watched him regard Duo with boredom.

He’d already won the game - Duo had been no challenge at all - and he was tired of him. Duo felt his anger and humiliation return and he scrambled to his feet.

“You’ve heard of the Vicomte Chang?”

Duo frowned and wracked his brain. The name was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it - oh. Right. The smug, self-righteous bastard who was friends with Chevalier Barton, one of Duo’s closest and oldest friends - hell, his only friend.

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

“Seduce him.”

The order startled a laugh out of Duo.

“Even if I could, why would I want to?”

“It would even the score between us.”

Duo shook his head.

“No - your little show - that game we just played, that more than evens things out. You put me in my place and that’s more than enough to make up for your  _ rescue _ of me.”

Milardo’s eyes narrowed at that. Duo was right. It had been a ruse - Duo had never been in danger of the dear Marquis’ embrace.

“Do this small favor for me and I will grant you one in return.”

Duo considered that. Having Milardo owe him a favor… that could definitely come in handy.

“Why Chang?”

“He annoys me.”

Duo snorted. “He annoys me too but I’m not tricking people into sleeping with him. Hm. You want him seduced - and knowing Chang to be a prude of the highest order, there’s a reason you want him humiliated like that… a reason you want all of Paris to know he was so low and desperate enough to sleep with  _ me _ ….” Duo didn’t even bother to fight the feral grin that spread across his face as he realized. “So the rumors  _ are _ true, aren’t they? Prince Khushrenada has set up Chang as his private entertainment and pushed you aside, hasn’t he?”

Duo had been amused and doubtful when the rumors started, when Hilde whispered that there was trouble in paradise and Khushrenada had put Milardo aside for someone else. Khushrenada, power behind the throne and one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom, had kept Milardo as his lover for the better part of a decade, if what Duo had heard was true. To set him aside - to set him aside for something as ordinary and ornery as Chang? Oh how that must sting Milardo. 

Duo had to wonder, though, what the hell did Chang see in Khushrenada? 

Milardo distracted Duo from that thought with a derisive snort.

“Merely a distraction. Treize will come back to me.”

“Uh huh. Just as soon as he sees that Chang is a worthless slut, right?”

Milardo arched an eyebrow but gave no other answer.

“So I seduce Chang, word gets around that he’s used goods and you get your protector back - and then I get my favor?”

Milardo took another sip of his tea.

“That depends entirely on what the favor is.”

Duo chuckled. Of course Milardo wouldn’t give him carte blanche. 

“So, what do you want in return for this?” Milardo asked.

Duo tapped a finger against his chin and considered. He could ask for a lot of things - Milardo could introduce Duo to a circle of nobility than would usually shun him; Milardo had money and clothes - what clothes; but there was something that Duo wanted more than material goods, more than society introductions.

“I want you.”

Milardo smirked. “Me?”

Duo nodded. “You. Without the act - no artifice. Just you.”

Milardo raised his eyebrows.

“But you don’t even particularly enjoy sex.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll enjoy  _ this _ ,” Duo assured him. “Don’t worry.”

Milardo chuckled and the sound was like brittle glass. “Very well. Seduce Chang and ruin him. And then… then I’ll let you have me, the real me.”

Milardo raised his teacup in a mocking salute.

“ _ If _ you can manage it, that is,” he added as Duo collected his abandoned coat.

“I’ll manage Chang just fine,” Duo assured Milardo with false bravado. 

He remembered, all too well, their last encounter. He even had the scar on his thigh, thin and faint, from Wufei’s rapier when the man had demanded satisfaction for Duo ruining his sister. 

In truth, Duo had no idea how he was going to pull this off, but he would. He would do it if for no other reason than to wipe that smug look off Milardo’s face.

 

-o-

  
  
  


Endnote1: Hey! If you’re enjoying the 31 Days of Smut, or just my writing in general, check out the ebook I published on Amazon it’s cheap (or free if you have Kindle Unlimited) and super smutty. It’s Ponyboy by C. Barton.

  
  



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